


all laced up

by youngjo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Getting Together, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, experienced top yeosang, shy virgin wooyoung, wooyoung is in a dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: Yeosang catches Wooyoung in a pretty dress and proceeds to ruin him in it.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 31
Kudos: 282





	all laced up

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a thing for fashion designer wooyoung ig
> 
> hope you enjoy this!!

This wasn’t the first time Wooyoung had been caught. He was a fashion student, so stumbling across his messy work station and half-dressed body was far from an unusual occurrence. Jung Wooyoung was about as shy as he was aware of his many, many assets. Various states of undress and hastily thrown together fabric for measurements left little to the imagination of his roommates. Nearly every other day, he could be found humming away as his sewing machine whirred away at his fingertips. Wooyoung had, however, made a conscious effort to work around the schedule of one roommate in particular—Kang Yeosang.

A historical architecture major and the bane of his existence, in more ways than one.

The pretty boy he shared a room with. The pretty boy who brought someone home virtually every other night. The pretty boy who wore loose-fitting hoodies and a different beanie everyday. The pretty boy who had stolen his heart and had no idea of that fact. The pretty boy who averted his gaze the first handful of times he stumbled across a naked Wooyoung, avoiding his usual routine of snatching a midnight snack and opting for immediately retreating to their room. 

Wooyoung’s heart had dropped to his stomach at the realization that Yeosang was actively avoiding him. He had never struggled to make friends and yet, despite months spent in each other’s presence, Wooyoung had still never gotten further than a few quick  _ how are yous _ and  _ hope your day went fine. _ Yeosang so consciously avoided him that Wooyoung only had enough time to spot him in the morning while he was leaving for class. It hurt, and he wondered if his being half-naked had something to do with it. So Wooyoung became conscious of Yeosang’s schedule in turn, only working on his projects during his lunch period and in the evening before Yeosang arrived home. He just wanted Yeosang to talk to him but even changing up his own routine did nothing. Wooyoung didn’t understand what he had done wrong.

So one could imagine his surprise when his evening took a drastic turn.

Wooyoung had just finished his final project of the year and had been admiring it in their full length mirror. A pretty white dress made of silk and lace, golden accents interwoven throughout the skirt that ended just above his knees. The top was months upon months of meticulous embroidery, finished off with glittery golden lace at the neckline. Overjoyed with the culmination of his studies, Wooyoung had slipped it on and was near tears over how pretty it looked. There were still flaws of course, just little imperfections that needed to be handled later, but it was essentially done. It wasn’t meant for him either but with no model to use as a reference, he had supplied his own measurements as a substitute.

A tiny blush rose in his cheeks as he felt himself begin to grow harder. Perhaps it was how pretty he looked, or perhaps it was the feeling of lace rubbing against his thighs—he didn’t know. He squirmed in place and went to reach for the zipper when the sound of a door opening startled him. Someone hovered into view in his mirror, making Wooyoung momentarily forget his hardening cock as he whipped around to meet them head-on and maybe explain why the hell he was wearing a dress … only to be met with Yeosang standing in the doorway, slack-jawed and eyes wide. Being intruded by their other roommate, Seonghwa, was one thing. He didn’t give two shits about Wooyoung taking care of his usual business. Being spotted by Yeosang, however, after he had spent weeks allowing the man to tiptoe around him was another. Especially on today of all days.

They stared at each other in silence for seconds that spanned into a minute, Wooyoung’s heart racing in his chest as Yeosang drank in every inch of his body. 

“S-sor—”

“Did you make that?” Yeosang cut him off.

“What?” Wooyoung blinked in surprise.

“Did you make that? Your dress.” The door slowly swung shut behind him.

Trepidation crept into his frame. Was this … a trap? His rational side said yes; his wild side was interested in seeing where this went. Considering this was the first time Yeosang had dared speak with him in weeks, Wooyoung wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

“Um … yes? It’s for my final project,” he replied, careful. “Why do you ask?”

Yeosang dropped his backpack on the floor with little care, skateboard landing gently atop it; his eyes never left Wooyoung. “It looks incredible. I knew you were a fashion student but I didn’t expect … this.”

“... Thank you?” Wooyoung answered, tilting his head with a puzzled expression. He missed the glimmer of excitement in Yeosang’s eyes.

A hand rose, fingers loose as they gestured towards him. “And what about that? Were you up to something … more exciting?” Yeosang asked, small lips curving into a smirk. 

_ What? _ Wooyoung, for all his attempts (keyword:  _ attempts _ ) to be subtle, immediately looked down. Oh, right—his hard-on. Tented in the skirt of his dress and blatantly on display. Forgot about that. From his cheeks to his neck, heat flooded into him. “O-oh, not … really.” Wooyoung realized a little too late that he really didn’t have an excuse for his obvious boner.

“Do dresses make you feel pretty, Wooyoung?” 

“What?” His gaze snapped back up. Now it was his turn to stand there slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

Yeosang took four steps towards him, now just the length of the couch away. “Because you  _ look _ pretty. May I have your permission to help you with that?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone, or, whatever. Yeosang had spent weeks avoiding him, dodging his schedule and toeing the line between unfriendliness and dislike, and now he wanted to … help him get off?  _ Come again? _ He had to be dreaming or something; there was no way this was actually happening. Wooyoung had barely dared to allow himself to fantasize over this let alone think it would ever become reality.

Yeosang took another step, Wooyoung unconsciously taking one back. The other man hesitated, calculation clear on his features. He took another step; Wooyoung mimicked it again. Then again, and again, until Wooyoung bumped into the mirror and cool glass slid against his arms. Yeosang, normally so docile and calm, looked like a different person. Cunning, smiling—dangerous. The prey had become the predator.

“May I?” Yeosang repeated, stopping when he was within arms reach. “Say no and I’ll walk away. I won’t bring it up again.”

Wooyoung visibly swallowed, fingertips flexing against the mirror as he stared in open surprise. His mind raced with scenario after scenario, along with the very real possibility that Yeosang may never offer something like this again after spending so long avoiding him. Wooyoung liked him. He was attractive and funny and everything Wooyoung had been warned to avoid as a child, which only made him that much more desirable. The absolute bane of his existence for both his attractiveness in attitude and appearance and how he had stolen tiny pieces of Wooyoung’s heart with every little thing he had done. 

Deep down, Wooyoung knew his mind had already been made up.

“I want … I want you to help,” he mumbled, only a little ashamed at how his cock twitched at the prospect of what was about to happen. 

Yeosang’s face grew soft. “Wait there then. Don’t move.” His eyes followed Yeosang as he turned and rounded around the couch, heading for their room. He disappeared inside and Wooyoung heard a bit of rummaging, his knees growing weak at the prospect of whatever Yeosang was searching for. The room fell into silence aside from the roaring of his own heartbeat and then Yeosang stepped back into the living room. In his hand sat a black bottle, a square of plastic nestled against the side; it didn’t take a genius to riddle out what it was. Wooyoung realized he intended to take it all the way and he was forced to gather every bit of strength remaining in his body to keep standing, even while his knees trembled and he was certain the sound of his heart rattling in his ribcage could be heard even across the room.

The other man once again drew near, setting his supplies on the arm of the couch. Yeosang then turned his focus upon Wooyoung and stepped closer, putting them close enough that Wooyoung could lean in for a kiss if he so desired. He kept his hands against the mirror though, too nervous to attempt movement of his own just yet. For all his confidence and pretty boy charm, he had never actually slept with someone before; he wasn’t really sure what to do. Not that he was going to vocalize that or anything, absolutely no— “I-I’ve never … done this with anyone.” Nice one, Wooyoung.

Yeosang blinked, surprise painted on his face. “Seriously? I’m your first?”

He nodded, averting his gaze.

A hand hovered into view, Yeosang slipping his fingers beneath Wooyoung’s chin and gently prompting him to look back. “Are you sure you want your first to be with me? Be honest, Wooyoung.”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “You have … you have a lot of experience, right? So I know I’ll be in good hands.”

A shadow of something flickered along Yeosang’s face, lips twitching like he was debating on mentioning something important, but it was gone just as quickly. Instead, the brown-haired man standing opposite him diverted his gaze below. Wooyoung followed his line of sight to his still very much obvious erection. Yeosang dropped his hand from his jaw and instead reached for the skirt, tracing the pretty lace with a delicate touch. His fingers dipped below the edge and lifted it up, revealing his bare lower half to Yeosang’s eyes only. A soft appreciative whistle fell from his lips, Yeosang tracing his slit with his index finger. Wooyoung wasn’t the biggest man in town, four inches on a good day, and he was well aware of that fact, giving him a note of anxiety upon someone other than himself viewing him. But Yeosang actually … smiled?

“Small dick, huh? Cute—it suits you.” Yeosang lifted his gaze, eyes dangerous thanks to the angle. “This is your final project, right? Then we better try our hardest to make sure it doesn’t get dirty.” He dropped the skirt and instead reached for Wooyoung’s wrists, gripping them with more strength than he had been expecting. Yeosang guided his hands to the hem of the dress and knocked them against it. “Hold this up for me.” 

Wooyoung obeyed, fingers curling around the edge of the fabric and hiking it up. Cool air followed, rushing against his hot skin in stark reminder of his bare skin now on full display. 

The other man drank in the sight of him and reached out to cup his balls with no hesitation, forcing his knees to grow ever weaker. Wooyoung gasped in surprise and quickly realized the unfortunate side effect of his position; he wouldn’t be able to muffle any of his noises, no matter how embarrassing they may be. Yeosang chuckled softly at that, giving him a gentle squeeze and rolling his testicles between practiced fingers. His hand slid up and even though Yeosang’s hands were on the smaller side, he still managed to completely envelope his cock in one of them. 

“Dreamt of this,” Yeosang grumbled, pumping him slowly.

Despite his nerves fighting for control of his brain function, Wooyoung still managed to gasp out a soft, “What?”

“Ruining you,” the other man replied, pressing closer so he could grip Wooyoung’s right hip with a firm grip. He pressed him back against the mirror, trapping him there. “Turning you into a mess. Though a dress wasn’t involved,” Yeosang breathed. He pinched the head of Wooyoung’s dick between his thumb and index finger and began to stroke it. “Not that I’m complaining.” Wooyoung squirmed under the touch and attempted to draw his knees together but a harsh squeeze on his hip put a stop to that thought. His eyes trailed up Yeosang’s chest to meet his eyes, his roommate looking like a different person. Despite this, he didn’t feel unsafe. If anything, his body grew hotter at the prospect of being used in the exact manner it had been fantasizing of for weeks.

“M-me too,” he admitted quietly. Wooyoung wasn’t shy but Yeosang convinced him he was. Maybe it was his bad boy aesthetic, or his clear sexual experience, or perhaps the fact he’d been crushing on him for awhile now. He couldn’t box it in completely, and in the moment it didn’t matter, but he had a feeling it would come up in conversation later. 

“You have no idea how much that turns me on,” Yeosang admitted, fisting the tip of his length. He chose that moment to drop to his knees, repositioning the hand on his side to fan it along his right thigh. Yeosang applied enough pressure to keep him trapped there, Wooyoung unable to see him below the ruffles of his dress. Warm breath brushed along his skin as Yeosang’s fingers slid back to the base of his cock. Lips suddenly pressed against his tip in a quick kiss and Wooyoung had barely enough sense to bite his lower lip to stifle a noise. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to keep his sensitivity a secret, as if Yeosang wouldn’t quickly figure that out on his own.

Wooyoung didn’t connect the dots until it was a hair too late. A hot mouth slid around him in one fluid motion, Yeosang taking the entirety of his cock with practiced ease. His hips jumped but Yeosang didn’t flinch, instead moving his other hand to press against his free thigh and completely keep him against the mirror. Not a moment was wasted as he began to bob his head, dragging his tongue and soft lips along his hard shaft. Wooyoung immediately forgot his attempts to remain quiet as a moan spilled from his lips and his body trembled with the force of a raging river. Coherent thought flew out the window in an instant flash, though somewhere deep inside, he had enough sense to keep holding his dress open for his roommate. It was the only thing capable of keeping him grounded, probably.

Yeosang was relentless, Wooyoung soon realized, digging his nails into his supple thighs and giving him the best blowjob of his life. Technically it was the first of his life too but that automatically made it the best. Those wicked lips moved up until they were sealed around his tip, suckling as Yeosang’s tongue rolled against the underside of it. Even that didn’t last long before he went back to bobbing his head, desperate whines and shaky moans spilling from Wooyoung’s mouth before he had a chance to even think about stopping them. Warmth began to pool in his stomach, hot and heavy. He threw his head back against the mirror, feeling it rattle behind him, and gasped; he wasn’t sure how his legs hadn’t given out yet. 

“C-close,” he cried, unsure whether he wanted more or less. 

Yeosang didn’t falter for even a second. If anything, he began to move faster, Wooyoung’s moans spilling into the room uninhibited now. It took only moments for him to succumb to pleasure, all of the brain power he could muster going into keeping himself upright as his thighs quaked in Yeosang’s grip. Yeosang eagerly drank every drop of cum Wooyoung had to offer, only pulling off when he was certain there was nothing else. When Wooyoung finally dared to look down, his hazy eyes fell upon Yeosang sitting back on his heels and smiling up at him.

“You taste good.”

Wooyoung could find the energy to answer just yet, staring at him with a blank expression.

“You’re so cute. Can you walk?” Yeosang rose up, placing his hands on Wooyoung’s hips in a possessive manner. His eyes caught sight of the very obvious bulge in Yeosang’s dark grey ripped jeans, forcing them to widen as he realized Yeosang wasn’t just big; he was  _ big _ big. He didn’t answer and Yeosang chuckled instead, lightly tugging on his hip as indication to follow. Wooyoung obeyed dutifully and pushed himself from the mirror, taking a step that rivaled even a newborn fawn in its shaky nature. They didn’t go far, much to his relief, and Yeosang nudged him towards the couch.

“On your knees. Keep’em spread, alright?” Yeosang began to fiddle with his zipper. Wooyoung’s curiosity won over his need to listen and he hesitated, watching with thinly veiled hunger as Yeosang undid his pants and slid them to the floor. He … wasn’t wearing anything underneath, giving Wooyoung an instant view of everything he had to offer. Yeosang was about as wide as himself but unlike Wooyoung, he did not lack length. Just from sight alone he could tell Yeosang was longer than the whole of his hand … and Wooyoung didn’t have small hands. “Like what you see, baby? It’ll be in you soon.”

“Are you sure that’ll fit?” He blurted.

Yeosang laughed, shrugging his jacket off. It joined the mess of fabric on the floor, followed closely by his shirt. His chest was gorgeous and Wooyoung grew a little distracted by his defined collarbones and the hollow sun-shaped tattoo on his left pectoral, ink a faded orange as indication that it had been there awhile. And,  _ oh gods, _ his nipples were pierced. Wooyoung swallowed at the sight of them.

“Trust me, it’ll fit; I’ve taken a whole hand before.”

“Wha—”

“But this isn’t about me,” Yeosang cut off, jerking his thumb towards the couch. “Up. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

Wooyoung opened his mouth to protest again but Yeosang quirking a brow activated his need to listen. He shuffled to the couch and climbed onto it, positioning himself on the cushions and leaning onto his elbows against the back. Yeosang ghosted one hand down the small of his back to the edge of the dress, gathering the fabric in his hands and pushing it as far up his back as he could. It completely exposed his ass into full view, Yeosang taking advantage of that and cupping his right cheek with one hand. Wooyoung threw a glance over his shoulder as he whistled. 

“I always knew you had a nice ass but seeing it out of tight jeans is something else.” Yeosang’s other hand came up, gripping his other cheek. He shivered as Yeosang pulled them apart, a rush of cool air sliding against his sensitive hole. “God, you’re everything I’ve been dreaming of.”

“You … you’ve been dreaming of me?” Wooyoung gasped softly.

“Every damn time I came home and seen you naked on the floor, I wanted to fuck you right into it,” Yeosang breathed, tracing along his crack with a finger. “Thought avoiding you would help me get rid of those thoughts but, well, here we are.”

Wait, wait,  _ wait, _ Yeosang had been dreaming of him? The very boy Wooyoung was head over  _ fucking _ heels for?  _ Him?! _ “Am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming.”

“You’re not,” Yeosang chuckled, letting go so he could reach for the supplies still balancing precariously on the arm of the couch. “You moan my name sometimes, Wooyoung. Did you know that? Makes it real damn hard to sleep with a boner.”

His face flushed bright red. “S-sorry, I had no idea.”

“Don’t be. Gave me enough confidence to finally do this.” The words were followed by the sound of a cap being popped. The lube, Wooyoung realized. Seconds later, cold liquid splashed against his tailbone and slid fluidly between his cheeks. He shivered, curling his fingers into soft fabric. The bottle of lube knocked against his knee as Yeosang dropped it onto the couch next to them. Fingers prodded against his slick hole, Yeosang giving him a moment to take a deep breath before he began to wiggle one inside. It didn’t hurt, given Wooyoung’s own masturbation habits, but it was enough of an addition to pull a gasp out of him.

“Do you get yourself off at the thought of me, baby? Does the thought of me filling you to the brim turn you on? Because it turns me on,” Yeosang mumbled. “The thought of you pushing a pretty little dildo up your ass, wishing it was me filling you instead haunts my dreams in all the right ways. Would you show that to me one day, if I asked? How well you can take a sad mimicry of me?” Yeosang liked to ramble it seemed.

Wooyoung didn’t answer, but luckily it seemed like Yeosang wasn’t expecting one. Not when he was already working a second finger into his tight hole. He gasped, throwing his head back as Yeosang began to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of Wooyoung’s body, twisting and turning as he worked him open with practiced ease. 

“Don’t hold back your noises. I want to hear you.”

What could Wooyoung do? Say no? 

No sooner were those words spoken did Wooyoung moan, high and breathy. Yeosang hummed, other hand slipping around his hips to seek out his semi-hard length. He gripped it firmly and began to stroke him in time with his fingers, making Wooyoung’s entire frame tremble yet again as he struggled to stay in his position. 

It didn’t take long before Yeosang finally began to work a third finger into him. He did so slowly, easing it in with soft inquiries of Wooyoung’s comfort, which he met with tiny gasps and nods of his head. Yeosang returned to his previously set pace, Wooyoung unable to focus on both types of pleasure radiating in waves throughout his body. His erection was back within minutes, the poor man losing his ability to stay completely upright as his chest knocked against the back of the couch. Yeosang just chuckled though, letting go of his sensitive cock and instead rubbing small circles into his back. 

Then he scissored him open, the most desperate noise he had ever made echoing in their dorm room. He wasn’t even ashamed of it. 

Yeosang went back to thrusting his fingers, crooking them so they dragged along his walls in the most delicious way. This continued for a few more minutes, Wooyoung feeling drool dribble down his chin and vanish into the dark fabric of their couch, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All that mattered was the white-hot pleasure shooting down his spine with every slow drag of Yeosang’s fingers deep within him.

In one fluid motion, Yeosang pulled them free. “You ready for my cock, baby? Can you manage a please?”

_ Please? _ Wooyoung blinked in hazy confusion at their bedroom door, distantly hearing a wrapper being torn open. What was he sayin—oh. “Pl … p-please,” he panted, too needy to put up a fight over it. He just needed Yeosang in him  _ now. _

“Ah, you’re such a good listener. Literally the best.” Yeosang hovered closer, slapping his cock against his asscheeks. “Ready, baby?”

“W-want it,” he pleaded.

“Fuck.” Then Yeosang’s tip pressed against his hole, a few seconds of silence filled only with gasps spanning between them, before he began to carefully push inside. A mix of momentary pain and pleasure shot up his spine but it didn’t last long. Yeosang wasn’t girthy, less so than the biggest toy Wooyoung owned, but his brain convinced him it would hurt. Once that moment passed, he allowed himself to hyperfocus on the pleasure as Yeosang sank inch by delicious inch into his body. Even when Wooyoung felt he was going to split in half from how full he was, Yeosang kept going. Deeper and deeper, until his hips became flush with his ass and they moaned in near unison.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he hissed, hands flying up to grip his hips in a near bruising hold. “Let me know when you’re ready; I’ll wait.”

Wooyoung’s chest heaved as he fought for air, knowing he wouldn’t last long even if he wanted to. Not with his inexperience and having cum once already. “N-now.” He wanted to say more but his brain was nearing blank bliss. 

Yeosang mumbled something and then began the slow pull out of him, Wooyoung’s nerves zeroing in on every sensation in full detail. He slipped out almost completely before easing back in. The action was repeated, Yeosang allowing him to grow used to his size and length in the gentlest way possible. He worked them up slowly, and though Wooyoung couldn’t see his face, he knew the other man was watching him carefully for any signs of distress. Only when Yeosang was moving at a fairly fluid pace did he allow himself to go harder, each snap of his hips pulling sound after sound from him. Moans, whines, a mix of both—every noise Yeosang had probably dreamt of. 

All Wooyoung could do was sit there and take it, Yeosang slamming into him as his cock bounced uselessly between his thighs and he desperately clung to the couch. Eventually he paused, taking a moment to readjust his angle, before he was right back at it. Only this time, he slid against something that sent stars exploding through Wooyoung’s eyes. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as Yeosang realized he had located his prostate. He began to aim directly for it, one foot landing next to his right knee as he leaned over Wooyoung’s back and positioned the other on the cushion. The new angle gave him a relentless power, forcing Wooyoung to turn into a sobbing mess as pleasure consumed his poor body.

He came at one point. At least, he was pretty sure he did, too lost in the shock of what Yeosang was doing to really know or care. All he could manage to do was sob and moan and whimper and plead. For what he didn’t know. 

Yeosang dropped his head against Wooyoung’s shoulder as his thrusts stuttered to a halt, groan low and languid as he finally achieved release. Wooyoung shuttered as he fought to catch his breath. The room grew flooded with soft panting before, finally, Yeosang carefully repositioned his feet back upon the floor. His hands pressed atop his cheeks gently and he slowly began to ease himself out, taking Wooyoung’s strength with him. The moment Yeosang’s tip popped free, he sagged against the couch in welcome relief; his only regret was that he hadn’t begged Yeosang to cum inside of him.

“Are you doing alright?” Yeosang murmured softly. “Can I get you out of that dress so you can rest?” 

_ Oh fuck, the dress. _ Wooyoung looked down, spotting cum along the couch cushions, but he couldn’t see any on the dress at first glance. A bit of thread had come loose but it was nothing he couldn’t fix later. “Zipper,” he replied, still catching his breath.

The feeling of the plastic zipper sliding down his back came next. “Lean back.” He did so, allowing Yeosang to pull the dress up and over his shoulders. “I’ll set it on your sewing machine, alright? Nothing looks damaged.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbled in response, a little embarrassed at his lack of strength to view it better. Yeosang returned to him, gripping his shoulders so he could carefully guide his back onto the couch; he hadn’t realized his legs were so stiff. Wooyoung groaned as he extended them.

The other man met his gaze, his hair ruffled and the glisten of sweat prominent on his forehead. “You did good for your first time.” Yeosang sat down on the cushion with him, gently stroking his fingers along Wooyoung’s thigh in reassurance. 

“T-thank you,” he repeated. “Hey Yeosang?”

“Yes?” He hummed.

Wooyoung brought his hands to his face, unable to look at him properly. “W … why did you come home early? I’ve been planning around your schedule for weeks now.”

Yeosang laughed, reaching out to gently tug on Wooyoung’s wrists. He allowed them to be guided away. “I wasn’t lying. About dreaming of this. I’m bad with feelings, okay?” The faintest hint of a blush crept up his cheeks as well. “Seonghwa finally yelled at me. Said you looked really sad whenever I avoided you. I didn’t mean to make you sad.” 

“I-it’s alright,” Wooyoung whispered. Deep down, that reassured more of his fears than Yeosang would ever know.

“Regardless, I’m sorry.” Yeosang inhaled shakily, taking Wooyoung’s hands in his own. “Would you … would you be open to, like, trying the whole dating thing?”

“You want to … date me?” Wooyoung asked, blinking at him in genuine surprise.

“Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t?”

Wooyoung couldn’t help it; he felt tears well in his eyes. Someone … wanting him? He had never viewed himself as desirable and yet here Yeosang was, admitting it with genuine interest. Sniffling, he knew his mind was already made up. “Y-yes. I want to try.”

Yeosang’s eyes actually lit up, and Wooyoung felt his heart skip the first beat of many. “Yay! Then … shall I run us a bath, and we can fall asleep watching movies? Ya know, first date?”

“I would love that!”

“Great.” Yeosang smiled. “But first, let me go get rid of this condom. Then I’m gonna come back here and kiss the living daylights out of you.”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but laugh. Watching Yeosang walk away, his eyes drifted to his dress and then, by proxy, his phone sitting on the floor; he smiled. He’d have to thank Seonghwa the next time he saw him. For now, he was content to give Yeosang every piece of his heart and more.

**Author's Note:**

> someone said yeosang can only bottom so I said fuck that and this was born
> 
> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) for more spicy content!


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